


May You Find Your Worth In The Waking World

by ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal



Series: How To Fuck Your Sokovian Slut [12]
Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Scarlet Witch (Comic), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Angst and Tragedy, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Gothic, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Wanda Maximoff, Oral Sex, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Psionics, Psychological Horror, Sad Ending, Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Telepathic Sex, Telepathic Wanda Maximoff, Tragedy, Vaginal Fingering, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-15 21:51:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21025289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal/pseuds/ElizabethOlsenIsMySpiritAnimal
Summary: In another time, in another world, a happier time, a peaceful world, theirs would be a love story, a beautiful tale of passion and emotion, a happy story, with a happy ending.But this is Yharnam, a place where no one’s story is happy nor turns out that way, and theirs is no exception.





	May You Find Your Worth In The Waking World

**Author's Note:**

> For My Chemical Romance and their music, which inspired this piece.

//

_ “The road to hell is paved with good intentions, right? And the ones you love litter the roadside…” _

_ \- Handsome Jack, Tales From The Borderlands _

//

** _(The Ghosts In My Bed / The Tower’s Guardian / Ethics Debate Class / Revelations / Sacrament Of Confession / Absolution, Or Something Close To It / Bittersweet Resolution / A Question...)_ **

//

Her name is Maria.

Technically, her full name is Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower, but most people simply know her as Lady Maria. She is many things, feared, hated, admired, by people from far and wide. She has many enemies, few allies, and no friends, and though she tries to keep it under wraps, it bothers her, just a tiny bit.

Well, maybe a lot.

She has been here...well, for a while. She’s not sure, she doesn’t care. She knows why she’s here, and it’s to keep anyone who pries too much into affairs mankind should know naught of from discovering what lies beyond. There have been many who have come, many who have tried, by strength of persuasion or strength of arms, to get through, to discover what she guards so jealously.

They have all ended the same way.

A few were slain quickly, Evelyn and Rakuyo finding their marks with a swift haste that left her wanting more. A few put up a fight, some more so than others, and she is grateful for those ones, the ones who allow her to test her skills and let the blood flow through her veins with alacrity. Still, it matters not, whether it be seconds or minutes, or in the rare cases, hours, they all fall at her hands, it’s simply a matter of how much pain they inflict upon her before they fall. 

So...why is this one different?

The door opens, ever so gently, and Maria waits, as she always has, in her chair. A woman, brunette, if the light does not lie, with hazel eyes that glimmer slightly, clad in scarlet, a blade at her side, gingerly closes the door behind her and looks around, and naturally, her gaze comes to rest upon Maria. She walks closer, brow furrowed in confusion, consternation, and as a magenta gloved hand reaches forth, to grasp her wrist, Maria does what she has always done.

With a grip tighter than steel, she seizes the interloper’s wrist.

_ “A corpse...should be left well alone.” _

The interloper recoils as Maria releases her, and the Old Hunter rises from her seat. The scarlet woman pulls free her sword - Ludwig’s blade, Maria realizes, with slight alarm - and raises it, reluctance dancing in her eyes for a reason Maria cannot fathom. She herself takes her time, drawing free her weapons and taking a breath, preparing herself for the task of slaying yet another trespasser. 

_ “Oh, I know very well...how the secrets beckon so sweetly.” _

A blade in one hand, a second in another. She twirls them, listening to the way the metal hums and sings in her hands, the eerie wail lingering in the air. Her trespasser has made little effort to ready herself for the fight, looking at her like she doesn’t want to fight, doesn’t want to raise her blade against The Guardian of the Clocktower.

_ “Only an honest death will cure you now-” _

For a moment, Maria feels as if this is wrong, as if she shouldn’t be doing this, raising her blade against the woman before her. She grits her teeth, shakes it off, and settles into a combat stance. This is no time for sentiment, there is only the Secret that must be maintained, even if the one before her must die.

_ “-liberate you from your wild curiosity.” _

The fight, if it can even be called that, lasts scarcely a minute.

//

Maria has few comforts.

She has her chair, her resting place, where she recovers from a fight or relaxes when wandering around the Clocktower bores her. She has her blades, her gun, the armor she wears with pride long forgotten. But most of all, she has the _ name, _ inscribed in magenta script upon her wrist. Everyone knows the legends, that the _ script _ foretells the one you will love truly, pledge yourself to, be with forever, through times of trial and times of smiles. It is said that everyone has such a script somewhere on their body, and a part of her counts herself lucky that it ended up somewhere...tasteful. Well, tasteful-ish. Gehrman certainly hadn’t been happy to see the script, those five little letters that told him he wasn’t the _ one. _

_ Wanda. _

It is a pretty name, Maria supposes. Not out of place in a city called _ Yharnam, _for fuck’s sake. The flowing way in which the word was written tells her that her soulmate is elegant, or at least more refined than she herself is, not that she is a barbarian, mind. She knows her lore, her secrets, the ways of the Hunters, among other things. Gehrman had taught her everything he knew, for better or for worse, and as she watches the brunette’s body vanish in a haze of light, she feels that she has committed a grave sin. She collapses, retches emptiness onto the blood-soaked floor. Then, with shaky feet and trembling hands, she staggers back into her chair. 

Rest, yes, she needs to rest. 

Maria settles into a hazy sleep, one that doesn’t come easily, and breaks at the slightest of noises. 

//

The brunette returns. 

The element of surprise is lost, Maria knows, and as the woman all but marches into the room, sword gleaming in one hand, a strange, scarlet power swirling about her other, she rises from her chair. 

“You return.” Maria says, eyes narrowing as the woman nods once. “Leave. There are secrets here no one should know.”

“I have a mission.” Replies the hazel-eyed woman, and her words set alight a fire in Maria’s spine, filling her with a sense of revelation, one that steals away the breath from her lungs. For a moment, she hesitates, and then she draws her blade and strikes.

The fight lasts a bit longer this time, but it ends all the same.

//

The third time, Maria loses her patience.

“What could possibly compel you to return to this accursed place?!” She shouts, noting the way the woman flinches as if she’s been physically struck. “Is it riches? Lust for glory? Power? There is none to be found here!”

The woman shakes her head, looking almost ashamed. “I must know what is in that tower, no matter the cost.” She whispers, lowering her hand from her sword and turning her face away from Maria. Her words have Maria pausing, for just a moment. That sensation is back, the whispers in the void, telling her to stop, to listen, and for a second, she does. And then she reasserts herself, and draws her gun, cocking Evelyn with her thumb.

“...then I will protect you from yourself.” Maria whispers, and fires. 

//

The brunette comes, again and again.

Maria slays her every time. A blade through the heart, a bullet through her skull, a neck snapped, body shattered, defenestration, suffocation, the ways in which she slays the persistent woman with the scarlet garb are many, and every time, Maria has to take a moment to herself to throw up, or cry, or perhaps both. She should feel content that she has protected the interloper from her curiosity, and the darkness within from the aforementioned, but all she feels is wrong, oh so very wrong.

Finally, it is too much. 

She’s lost count of how many times she has slain this intruder, this disturber of her peace, and felt nothing but sickness and disgust with herself every time her body tumbles against the floor. The brunette has never once struck her, choosing to evade and parry, as if she’s hoping Maria will simply drop dead from exhaustion, which she never will. It is then, in the midst of yet another duel, that she throws down her blades and screams.

“Why?!” She screams. “Why do you not strike back? Fight, _ fight, _ you coward!” She yells at the source of her misery. 

The brunette shakes her head, drops her sword to the ground. “I won’t.” She murmurs, watching as Maria steps around her like a lion would its prey. “I won’t.” She repeats again, and Maria, enraged, grasps her by the throat.

“Why?” She all but hisses, pulling her close, and then and only then does she notice the glimmering name, written in almost floral script across the collarbone of the woman. Five little letters, and with the sensation of her stomach dropping, Maria realizes the name she sees before her-

-is her own.

She drops the brunette as if she’s been burned, letting her gasp and breathe in air, and Maria all but collapses, breathing heavily as the revelation that she has so long ignored finally, _ finally _ makes itself known.

She has raised her blade, taken up arms, against her _ soulmate. _

_ That, _ Maria knows, is a sin of the gravest margin. She has done many things in her life that have tainted her soul beyond redemption, but she’d always hoped that maybe, just maybe, none of those things would involve her soulmate, and well, it has. She has killed her soulmate, time and time again, and it all could’ve been avoided, if she’d just _ listened. _

She pries up her sleeve, glances at the name on her wrist. It glows, and for how long it has been glowing is anyone’s guess, but it makes her grimace. Her eyes meet those of her soulmate’s, and for a moment, she fantasizes about how beautiful they are. Her soulmate is perfect, in every sense of the word, and it makes Maria want to cut her heart out in shame at what she has done to her.

She’s not worthy of Wanda’s love, she thinks, so it surprises her, when her soulmate’s hands clasp her own.

//

“Maria…”

The way that Wanda whispers it makes the Old Hunter’s heart soar. She looks up, silver eyes meeting hazel, and with Wanda’s help, she stands up. “It’s okay.” She whispers, her arms embracing Maria’s blood-soaked frame. “It’s okay.” She repeats, and for the first time in a long time, Maria relaxes. She breathes out, slow and steady, and returns the embrace.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” She whispers, a hand coming up to caress Wanda’s cheek. “What I did...I did only to fulfill my duty. Had I known…” She trails off, breath shaky as she slumps into Wanda’s touch, feeling tears flow freely down her cheeks. “There is nothing I can say to earn your forgiveness, to be absolved of the sins I’ve committed.” 

“...I understand.”

Maria looks up, and Wanda, sweet thing that she is, _ smiles _ at her. “I understand.” She whispers again, the gentle expression on her face faintly visible in the moonlight. “I know what it’s like to do something terrible in the name of good, to do wrong with noble intentions.” The similarities do not comfort Maria much, but she is grateful that they understand each other, just as soulmates should, though she hopes that Wanda’s sins are far less than her own.

For a moment, they gaze into each other’s eyes, and then something _snaps._

Maria reaches out, pulls Wanda forth. Her lips land upon the brunette’s, fingers coming up to clasp her cheeks. It’s a spur of the moment thing, one that surprises them both, if Wanda’s wide, hazel eyes are any indication. The kiss lasts only a few seconds, and Maria is the one to break it, breathing heavily as she goes. She feels a smile cross her face ever so slightly, and then Wanda reciprocates, grasping her, kissing her, pushing Maria backwards and onto the floor. 

It’ll have to do, Maria supposes, she is a woman of few comforts, she has no bed to rest in, and frankly, the chair is too small, and so the floor it is. Wanda kisses her in a hungry fashion, grasps at her clothes, fingers clumsily prying at the buttons, and Maria lends her assistance, helps Wanda undress her. It takes but a minute, and she is divested of her clothes, laying them out on the floor in a makeshift blanket for them to lie upon. 

Wanda goes first, pressing a kiss to Maria’s lips, as she straddles the white-haired woman. She then slips off to the side and raises a hand, clenching it into a fist, and scarlet energy begins to trail across Maria’s skin, enveloping her breasts, her ass, her pussy. Confusion reigns in her mind for a moment, she remembers seeing that energy across their battles, when Wanda had resorted to it in a last ditch attempt to survive, but she never knew it had such...applications.

Wanda’s fingers twitch, and the pleasure that Maria had long since forgotten begins to come back to her. She has known misery, and loathing, and hate and pain, but pleasure...well, it’s been a while, and she’s all too happy to let Wanda reacquaint her. Her breath hitches as Wanda’s scarlet power begins to work her body, caressing her breasts, massaging her pussy, making her gasp and shudder.

Maria has had many lovers - not in her youth, that would imply time works properly, here in Yharnam - in her past, but none of them were quite as good as Wanda. But then again, Wanda is her soulmate, and though they have had little interaction before this, save for the many deaths of the brunette, Wanda knows her body, inside and out, it seems, working as if she has touched Maria a thousand times before, and not just this once.

Maria feels herself leaving the ground, floating above it by just a few inches, as Wanda’s other hand clenches and even more scarlet energy begins to wash over the Old Hunter. She’s watching Maria with great interest, admiring the way that her scarlet dynamism makes the silver-eyed woman moan, shake and shudder. Before long, she is coming, voluntarily helpless in Wanda’s psionic grasp, and she locks eyes with Wanda as she cums, the long-forgotten sensation of pleasure hitting her like a tidal wave, sweeping her away and making her scream in delight, just for the brunette.

As she’s gently placed onto the ground, recovering her breath all the while, Maria scrounges up the strength to sit up on the mess of clothes beneath her. She smiles at Wanda, beckoning her closer. She presses a fond kiss to her soulmate’s lips and traces a line with an idle finger, running it along the glowing letters that line Wanda’s throat.

“Your turn.” 

Swiftly, Maria seizes Wanda and pins her to the floor, prying her clothes off, the jacket, the corset, the pants and the panties underneath going with far more ease than her own ensemble had gone. They too join the mix of clothes beneath them, giving the duo a bit more insulation between them and the floor. Maria takes the initiative, spreading Wanda’s legs with insistent hands. The brunette is all too eager to let her legs splay forth, and drawing upon memories long forgotten, the Old Hunter practically dives between them and presses her lips to Wanda’s pussy, her tongue colliding with it a moment later. Her hands clasp Wanda’s hips, and she begins to work the brunette’s pussy with skills that have been gathering dust in the back of her mind for who knows how long.

Wanda moans and gasps, breasts heaving as she turns into metaphorical putty in Maria’s grasp. Her tongue moves swiftly, sliding up Wanda’s cunt this way and that, delving inside, each swipe of her tongue letting Maria taste the brunette’s essence. It’s addicting, intoxicating, and no matter how many times she works at Wanda’s pussy, she just can’t get enough. Wanda’s moans are music to her ears, her gasps a sweet intonation, the little cries that slip from her lips practically _ begging _ Maria for more.

Her love has been starved of pleasure. This must be corrected.

And correct it she does. She stokes the fires of Wanda’s lust with her tongue, then her fingers, and then both. Maria listens to the brunette’s moans of pleasure, enjoying the way they turn into howls and screams, as she moves her fingers _ just so _and throws the brunette into orgasm. The rush of fluid that coats her tongue catches her by surprise, but Maria doesn’t mind, it’s a pleasant gift for her to enjoy. She memorizes the way that Wanda’s climax takes her, the way her hips buck into her mouth, how her hands grasp the clothes beneath them and bunch the fabric up, how her eyes dilate, the expression on her face a mixture of joy and happiness. 

She memorizes every moment of it.

Maria makes Wanda cum, again and again and again, listens to her screams of pleasure, her delighted cries. She imagines that this is her penance, where she once inflicted pain and suffering upon Wanda, she now bestows pleasure and ecstasy upon her. She moves and _ moves, _ bringing Wanda to the very height of pleasure and then some, letting her crash back down before raising her back up again. Over and over, until Wanda cannot take it anymore, and even then, she squeezes out a couple more orgasms before the brunette slumps to the floor and doesn’t move, save for the rise and fall of her chest and ragged breathing. 

Maria crawls upwards, slumping on top of Wanda, pressing a kiss to her lips. It rouses the brunette, hazel eyes blinking rapidly as she comes back to herself, and Maria goes in for another kiss, gentle and sweet, humming a soft hum as she cuddles with Wanda, using the brunette’s jacket as a makeshift blanket. “I love you.” She whispers, feeling a tear run down her cheek. “I know it will never outweigh the sins that I have committed against you...but know that I love you, forever and always.” 

“...I love you too.” Wanda murmurs, a sweet little smile on her lips, one that Maria frames with a hand that comes up to Wanda’s cheek. She wraps her arms around Maria and they shift a bit, lying side by side, in each other’s grasp, bodies snuggled against each other.

For a long time, all they do is lie in each other’s company, smiling in weary fashion and trading sloppy, if loving, kisses, until sleep claims them.

//

They don’t leave the tower for weeks.

Maria has food, water, supplies to last them, and well, Wanda is adaptive if nothing else. They do have to get a bed, if for Wanda and their lovemaking if nothing else, acquiring one by way of “requisitioning” it from enemy territory, leaving behind a trail of bodies as they go. Time, though given the way Yharnam works, it’s hard to tell how much, passes, during which they make love, talk, and share their pasts with each other. Maria bares her soul to Wanda, telling her of the experiments, the monstrosities, that which she attempts to protect her from, and in turn, Maria listens to Wanda’s tale of the Avengers, of Pietro, Ultron, the war with Thanos, and the journey she has had ever since she woke up here, in a world far beyond her own, after a spell gone awry sent her hurtling into the void.

Despite Wanda’s forgiveness, despite her statements that Maria has long since been forgiven for what happened in those terrible days since they met, the Old Hunter cannot shake the guilt that gnaws at her. She has hurt her soulmate, _ killed _ her, even, and here she is, cuddled up to her, as if she deserves a woman she laid harmful hands on. She wants to throw her blade and gun into the deepest chasm, then herself, but she cannot, so long as the possibility exists that the horrors beyond the Clocktower will be discovered, she must remain, and yet, as much as she wants to protect the world from itself, she wishes that her long vigil would end.

One night, as Wanda sleeps, Maria makes her decision.

She gets up, rolling out of the bed as stealthily as she can, making for her jacket, hung on her chair. She reaches into it, and pulls out a tiny little instrument. The Celestial Dial, the source of all her misery. This little item, the key to the darkest secrets of Yharnam. She looks at it for a moment more, and then she turns back and walks towards her chair. She pries out a piece of paper and pens instructions on how to use the dial, the key to Wanda finding a way to end the nightmare that has haunted her for so long. Maria sets the letter down, along with the dial, on her chair, and, on a whim, puts on her ensemble in dead silence, taking care to leave behind Rakuyo. Wanda will no doubt need it, and her beloved weapon should be gifted to more caring hands in any case. 

She turns back towards the bed. Wanda is asleep, so peaceful, wrapped up in such blissful slumber. She walks close to the brunette, admiring the way her face is framed by the moonlight, her features soft and peaceful.

“I love you, Wanda.” She whispers, and leaning down, she presses a final kiss to her slumbering lover’s lips. “Goodbye.” 

Maria turns and walks out of the Clocktower, shutting the doors behind her and locking them tight. She draws her gun, Evelyn, her faithful sidearm, and thumbs it fondly, sighing as her thoughts drift back to the sleeping brunette in the other room. Her soulmate, her lover, a woman she cares for so, so much.

In another life, another world, perhaps like the one Wanda hailed from, everything would’ve been different. She fantasizes about how it would’ve gone, in that other, alternate life. They would’ve gone on so many dates, made so many happy memories, across theaters and theme parks and other such places. At some point, she would’ve proposed marriage, getting down on her knees before Wanda and holding up a ring, forged by her own hand. They would’ve married in a lavish ceremony, and as wives, they would’ve built a home, a beautiful one, and filled it with love, joy, and children, _ their _ children. Love, a family…

A cold breeze shakes Maria out of her dream. She opens her eyes and is rudely welcomed back to reality. She is tainted beyond redemption, her hands soaked with blood that will never be washed away. She takes a breath, and brings her sidearm up to her head. She closes her eyes and thinks of Wanda, sweet Wanda, one last time. Wanda is strong, graceful, beautiful. She’s an Avenger, one who rights wrongs and slays the wicked. She will be up to the task Maria has left in her hands.

“You have avenged many, Wanda, my love.” Maria, Lady of the Astral Clocktower, whispers. 

“Avenge me.” 

And a single gunshot splits the night.

//

Wanda isn’t sorry that she’s leaving Yharnam behind, not at all.

“I am so, so sorry we were unable to find you sooner.” Stephen Strange says, Wong grimly silent at his side, as they step through a portal and back into the world between worlds. “Once we get back to the Sanctum, we’ll get you proper medical attention, and you can inform us of what happened in that world. Once you’re ready, of course.”

“Right.” Wanda whispers, more to herself if anything. She’d done what she needed to do, slaying the monsters beyond the Clocktower and horrors that somehow managed to put them to shame. In a pack across her back, a few souvenirs of her time in Yharnam - Maria and Ludwig’s blades, plus a few trinkets she’d found interesting - rest, and some other sorcerer with more experience in arcane lore will no doubt have a look at them before putting them somewhere safe. 

They come back to Earth, to the Sanctum, to safety and _ home, _ with another portal, and Wanda takes a moment to savor the world around her. Home, however flawed it is, is far, far better than Yharnam and all the horrors that lay within. She hands over her pack to Wong, telling him to be careful with the things she’s placed within, and after a small army of healers examine her and provide her with fresh clothes, she showers, eats, and rests, something that takes up the better part of the day. In the evening, she comes to Stephen and, with Wong there, tells him everything that happened in Yharnam. The horrors she fought and slew, the people she met, how twisted and _ broken _ that world was, and most importantly, about Maria. She dwells on the subject of her soulmate longer than she does on any of the other topics, and though it isn’t relevant to the horrors that she fought, horrors that may one day make their way to Earth, Strange and Wong listen intently all the same. “Thank you, Wanda.” Strange says, when she’s finished, gulping down a glass of water as she goes. “Go get some rest.” He gives her a kind smile, and Wong guides her back to her room. 

There, in her private sanctuary, a peaceful place she has so dearly missed, Wanda pulls free the letter that had been placed upon the Celestial Dial. The key to discovering that twisted realm Maria was so intent on protecting her from. She’d read the letter, of course, and learnt how to open a gateway to the aforementioned, but the instructions hadn’t been important, not compared to the farewell that was scrawled beneath in Maria’s script. The Dial rests in Wong’s archives, along with most of the letter. She’d torn off the farewell that Maria had left, keeping that for herself, but Wong would need the instructions in order to understand the Dial. She runs her fingers over the parchment, rereading the words over and over.

_ I love you, Wanda. Forever and always. - Maria, Lady of the Astral Clocktower _

“I love you too, Maria.” Wanda whispers to the empty air, and then and only then, does she allow herself to cry.

//

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone asks, I was _really_ drunk and angsty when I decided to write this. It sounds better than "had Welcome To The Black Parade on a loop and remembered it's October and therefore time for something Spooky".


End file.
